


Discipline of the Blue Book

by still_lycoris



Category: X-Men: Apocalypse (2016) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Blindfolds, Community: unconventionalcourtship, Dubious Consent Fantasy, Holidays, Hurt/Comfort, Light Bondage, M/M, Scene Gone Wrong, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 07:40:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12031269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris
Summary: Charles Xavier and Hank McCoy are in a committed relationship — even if the sex is a little predictable. But while on vacation at a secluded cabin they discover the Blue Book, an erotic tome filled with vintage photos of men disciplining their submissive. Both Charles and Hank are turned on by the sensual images of domination—leading to experiments of their own that reveal all their secret, wicked desires....Or Charles and Hank go on holiday together, trying to recover after the events of Apocalypse. The road to recovery isn't quite what either of them expected it to be ...





	Discipline of the Blue Book

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the unconventionalcourtship challenge - summary based on Discipline of the Blue Book -Portia Da Costa.

“Hank McCoy, if I see you check that bag one more time, I’m going to take it off you.”

Hank looked up sheepishly from his suitcase. Raven had her hands on her hips and was glaring at him, shaking her head.

“I’m just making sure that I have everything,” he said, a little defensively. “You never know what you might need.”

“Yes,” Raven agreed. “Because the cabin that I arranged for you to holiday in will be completely devoid of supplies. Because, of course, nobody would think of stocking it in preparation for your arrival. Doubtless, the car will explode and you will lose all contact with us and you will die from not having enough underwear.”

“I’m not checking for underwear!” Hank said, knowing he sounded very defensive now. “And you don’t know what we might need! Unexpected things can always happen, you know.”

He could tell that Raven was thinking of having an argument with him and he almost hoped that she would, but she didn’t. Instead, she sighed, then moved over to him, leaning down and zipping up his bag.

“Hank. You and Charles are going, for one week and one week only, to stay in a lovely isolated cabin, surrounded by trees and fields and everything peaceful. You are both going to spend that time relaxing, away from all responsibilities and having a wonderful, wonderful time. All you need to have with you are the car keys and anything Charles needs to keep him comfortable in his chair. So stop worrying!”

Hank gave a little sigh of his own. Logically, he knew that Raven was right. He and Charles hadn’t had what could actually be called a holiday for twenty-one years (although for some of those years, Charles had largely been in a drunken haze and Hank had been in an apathetic haze.) A holiday should be welcome, would be wonderful.

And yet a part of him ... a part that had got a little bigger now they were about to go away ... was rather dreading it. He felt ridiculous for it but it was true all the same and he was trying rather hard not to think too much about why. Raven seemed to have come to her own conclusions about it and Hank had no intention of correcting her.

“Everything will be fine,” Raven said now, nodding her head. “I will take care of everything, you know that I will.”

“I know,” Hank said quickly because the last thing he wanted was for her to think that he didn’t believe in her. He knew that if anything happened – and nothing would anyway, almost certainly – that Raven was the best person to be at the school. Besides, most of the children were back with their families for the holidays, it was only the ones that lived there all year round now and most of them knew how to take care of themselves.

“Now, where is Charles?” Raven said. “I swear, if he’s packing too – ”

“He was.” It was Storm’s voice who answered and Hank turned to see her pushing Charles’s wheelchair, which Charles was sitting in looking rather disgruntled. “I think he was making sure that he had enough ties.”

“I was just checking that I had everything,” Charles said indignantly. “There was really no need for you to abduct me like this.”

“It is not abduction, it’s helping you go where you should be going. Aren’t you always saying that we should help each other on our journeys?”

Hank couldn’t help laughing at that. He liked Storm. She had really grown since coming to join them and seeing Charles’s expression of chagrin was really rather hilarious.

“Thank you, Storm,” Charles said, his voice dry. “And there is nothing wrong with wanting to look smart. I’ve only packed a few ties, a perfectly normal amount for a week. Raven, you do – ”

“ – have everything I could ever possibly need for the eventuality of any disaster?” Raven said, her voice just as dry as Charles’s. “Yes, I think between me, the weather witch, the incredibly powerful telepath and the boy who shoots concussive blasts from his eyes, we’ve probably got it covered. Now _leave_ before I let Peter run you into the car.”

“Hank, let’s go,” Charles said quickly, smiling as he spoke. “The last time Peter tried to run around with me, my wheelchair tyres met an unfortunate fate.”

Hank laughed and walked with him, turning to wave at the little gathering that had come to see them off. They all looked so cheerful – and well they might, really, they weren’t having to go somewhere that they’d never been before. Although that wasn’t exactly the thing that was filling him with unease.

He and Charles hadn’t actually been alone together for eleven years. Although most pupils went home for holidays, there were always a few that couldn’t for whatever reason and that number had only grown as the school had grown. Oh, there had been plenty of times when they’d had private time but they hadn’t been _alone_.

And they hadn’t been alone at all since Apocalypse.

Hank quickly pushed the thought right to the back of his mind, just in case Charles was listening. Charles was good at ignoring snippets but Hank tried to make it easy by keeping things neatly tucked away whenever possible. Sometimes, he thought that was a good thing but sometimes, he wondered if he and Charles had made it too easy to ignore everything bad that might be there.

But perhaps that was his fault. After all, they had agreed that Charles wouldn’t talk about what he read in Hank’s mind. If Hank _didn’t_ say it out-loud, what was Charles supposed to do? Maybe it was Hank’s responsibility to change things ...

He pushed that away too. He didn’t want to think about this. He and Charles were going away for a lovely peaceful holiday and they were going to have a wonderful time. There was nothing else to think about.

“You’ve got enough serum?” Charles asked.

Hank very rarely used the serum these days – in fact, he was almost always his blue-furred self. But he kept a supply and he and Charles had both agreed that this time, it might be worth using some. Although they had practised, Hank found it very hard to drive a normal car when he was big, blue and furry. He never felt quite in control of the vehicle and he always worried that he might break something on top of that. No, while he was driving, he wanted to be in his old form.

Besides, depending on what they decided to do at this cottage, they might need it. Hank didn’t think that it was a necessarily a good idea to go too near too many people in out of the way places when he was like that. He was no longer ashamed of himself, no longer feared the blue part of him but sometimes thought that it wasn’t a good idea to show it off. The world was ... confused about mutants. 

Another thing that Apocalypse had changed.

He stood close in case Charles needed any help getting into the car but Charles didn’t. He lifted himself in, then leaned out of the window to give last minute instructions to Raven as Hank packed the wheelchair away.

“I think I wrote everything down but you won’t forget that Carrie-Anne is allergic to oranges won’t you? And if anything goes wrong, you can contact me, Jean can find me if she needs to but she’s _not_ to use Cerebro, she’s not ready.”

“ _Charles_.” Raven was using her wonderfully aspic tone. “I am totally aware of how to look after other people. They’re all old enough to tell me things that are important. I’ve lived with you and them for over a year. _Leave_.”

“But I – ”

“Hank, take him away or I’ll kill you both. I mean it.”

Hank couldn’t help laughing a bit as he started the car. Charles was smiling.

_Hank can drive all he likes, I’m a telepath and I can talk to you until we’re out of range which is quite a way. Please don’t let Peter do anything that he isn’t supposed to, no matter what his justification – Jean, are you blocking me?!_

Hank laughed harder as he drove them out of the gate. Charles was laughing too, shaking his head slightly.

“I think I’ve taught some of these people too well, Hank.”

“Possibly,” Hank said. “They’ll be fine though. Raven’s right, she can take care of all of them. And most of them can take care of themselves!”

“I think that’s what I’m afraid of!” Charles said. He leaned back in his seat, looking out of the window and silence fell. That was all right, Hank was used to silence around Charles. They had often gone for days without really talking before they’d started the school again. It had been uncomfortable sometimes but after a while, Hank had found that he understood Charles’s silences like they were words, even without Charles’s telepathy. Charles could come into a room and Hank would know just from his footsteps if Charles was angry or sad or needy and reacted accordingly. Even when things had improved, they’d never lost the art of being able to sit in comfortable quiet.

At least, Hank had thought they’d never lost it. Now he wasn’t so sure. They’d only been in this car for a few minutes and he already felt awkward, uncertain.

Perhaps that was just because he was worried about travelling.

He focused on driving and making sure that he knew where he was going. Charles settled quietly down in his seat and closed his eyes. It was possible he was having a nap or equally possible he was dipping in and out of the minds of every other driver around them. Hank knew that he did that, partly to test himself and his skill. Sometimes he would tell Hank what he’d heard, which Hank sometimes found a little weird – telepathy was something that it was hard for people to get used to, even someone like him.

The drive was a pretty long one and they stopped a few times. Nobody really paid them any attention, although Hank had a feeling that was because Charles was smoothing things over around them. He was fine, in this form, almost nobody knew his face but Charles’s face was famous. After Washington had been bad enough but after Apocalypse, they had been even more newsworthy. People all over the world knew what Charles Xavier looked like and it didn’t help that Charles couldn’t disguise himself by changing his hair.

He’d never out-right said that he missed it. He’d just made a few jokes about not nearly as many of the students getting crushes on him now he was bald. Hank hadn’t quite liked to ask if Charles missed that or was disturbed by the change in his body.

Maybe that was a problem.

They stayed the night in a hotel that Raven had booked for them. It was extremely fancy, of course. Raven knew Charles could afford it. Hank liked it but to his surprise, Charles looked rather sad.

“I doubt she spent much time staying in places like this over the last twenty years.”

Hank didn’t know how to respond to that and so he didn’t. He shrugged a little instead. Charles was probably right – although it was equally possible that Raven had used her powers to get into places like this and simply not paid the hotels any money. He didn’t think that he should talk about that either.

How had they suddenly gone back to having all these topics that he didn’t want to talk about? After Washington, they’d got back into telling the truth about everything. They’d talked about how they’d felt about each other, good _and_ bad. They’d talked about Charles’s feelings for Erik, Hank’s feelings for Raven. They’d talked about all of it ... and then somehow, it had gone ... different. Wrong.

He pushed the thoughts back in case Charles was reading them and focused on getting ready for bed instead. Charles was doing the same and once they were both in bed, he cuddled up to Hank and grinned at him.

“Just think. When we’re at the cabin, we won’t have to be quiet anymore!”

Hank laughed at that. Yes, there had been a lot of tip-toeing around and hushed voices in the past few years. A lot of the students _did_ know about their relationship, of course. It was the kind of thing that you couldn’t necessarily keep secret in a building full of mutants, particularly any with telepathic abilities. And after Peter had joined them, well, Peter couldn’t keep a secret to keep his life ... unless he was talking to Erik Lehnsherr, anyway.

Charles gave him a kiss, just a peck on the lips, then snuggled close and shut his eyes. Automatically, Hank cradled him close and continued to read his book for a while. He always liked to read later than Charles wanted to stay up and so Charles had got used to sleeping with a light on. It had worked for them, in the end. They were good at making things work – or had been.

 _Again_ with the fretting. With a sigh, he put his book down and turned off the light, cuddling down next to Charles. Raven had gone on and on about how holidays were relaxing but Hank was beginning to think that she was crazy to think it. Maybe she’d just never been on one.

Perhaps it would be better when they actually reached the cabin.

*

He slept all right, despite his vague worrying, and only woke when Charles prodded him in the side.

“Didn’t you say we needed to keep to a strict schedule or we’d be late and end up lost in the dark and dead?”

“Did I say that out-loud?” Hank asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. His hands had turned blue and furry, it was time for another dose.

“Well, you thought it a lot, which was basically the same thing. Anyway, I want to get there, I’m looking forward to some total peace.”

Hank wondered about that remark as he injected himself, showered and dressed. Total peace was something that Charles rarely had. Perhaps he really did crave it. It had been a long time. Raven had obviously felt that Charles needed it or she wouldn’t have suggested such an isolated place.

The drive was easy with fewer and fewer vehicles. Hank kept one eye on Charles, noticing that a few wrinkles on his forehead were beginning to smooth out. Maybe it was the quiet. Maybe this _was_ a good idea.

Raven had been telling the truth – the cabin _was_ beautiful. It was miles away from anywhere, even the lodge where they had stopped to pick up the keys. The woods around it were not too thick but thick enough to look wild and beautiful. There was a stream that ran close by and the whole thing managed to look very picturesque, even to Hank who wasn’t often interested in how his surroundings looked. There was a smooth path though and even a ramp which would mean Charles could move around without too much trouble.

Charles was clearly delighted with the place. Hank could see it in his eyes as he looked at everything, pointed at the view with excitement. The indoors was just as pleasant, small and compact but pleasant to be in with warm looking furniture and a wood burning fire. There was even a little bookshelf with books already on it, although Hank suspected most of them would be the usual holiday nonsense.

“Good old Raven,” Charles said, lifting himself out of the wheelchair to settle on a rather comfortable looking armchair instead. “Remind me to think her for this.”

“Is anybody close enough for you to hear?” Hank asked.

“Only you, unless I really push,” Charles said, closing his eyes. “And since I don’t intend to push, I can enjoy some quiet.”

Hank smiled at him, glad to see him looking so happy. All right, so maybe Raven hadn’t been wrong. Maybe this holiday hadn’t been such a bad idea.

*

He changed his mind the next day when he looked out of the window and saw that it was snowing.

“Oh dear,” Charles said in that disconcerting way he had when he looked through your eyes without opening his own. “Oh well.”

“Hmm,” Hank said, trying to dampen his rather disappointed thoughts. He didn’t exactly mind the snow himself – it might even be rather fun – but he couldn’t help thinking about the plans that they’d made, most of which would be derailed if the snow was very heavy. Charles’s wheelchair wouldn’t be able to cope with that.

“Hey.” Charles’s voice was soft. “It doesn’t matter. Why don’t you come back to bed for a bit instead?”

He smiled as he said it and patted the covers hopefully. Hank smiled back and returned to the bed, scrambling in next to him and letting Charles lean up to kiss him.

They had sex semi-regularly at home. Not as often as they once had but enough that Hank felt satisfied. Somehow, it wasn’t quite the same as it had used to be, although he wasn’t sure why. He supposed it was just time passing, the fact that they were both older. They’d been together for such a long time, you just got used to things, didn’t you? It wasn’t ever unpleasant or disappointing, just ... sometimes rather routine.

The snow didn’t stop. When Hank opened the door to inspect it, he was saw that it was making heavy drifts against the side of the house. There was even a little possibility that they’d be snowed in entirely – not that it mattered. They’d bought all the food and supplies they needed after all. It just meant ... well, they’d be stuck inside.

“We’ll have to design a hover wheelchair for me,” Charles said cheerfully. “I can rise above the snow and look smug as you all have to wade through it.”

“It would probably freeze up,” Hank said but the idea prickled entertainingly in his mind. _Could_ he build something like that? It would have to be a bit more bulky than Charles’s usual chairs, they’d probably have to alter the mansion a bit again so he could get around but it didn’t seem totally impossible ... a rough design or two might give him a better idea ...

“Well, that’s you lost for half an hour!” Charles said with a laugh. “I think I’ll read a book.”

Hank made a noise of agreement and dug out his notebook, writing down things that he thought he might need to consider. It had been a while since he’d had a really satisfying design project. Obviously, Charles would need to be able to get in and out easily, they’d have to work out exactly where to put the machinery to try and make sure that if it did break, Charles wouldn’t be hurt and obviously, it would have to be comfortable ...

It turned out to be rather longer than half an hour. In fact, if they had been at home, Charles probably would have left him alone for the rest of the day. As it was, Charles couldn’t reach everything in the kitchen and had to nudge him out of distraction for their dinner.

“You’ve done a lot. Anything practical?” Charles asked. He never looked at Hank’s designs unless Hank asked him to – Hank hated people peering at his things. It made him feel self-conscious.

“Not sure. Probably? I think it’s possible, although we’d have to be very careful to make sure that it wasn’t dangerous. Working out what to fuel it with might be the biggest problem.”

“You’ll manage it,” Charles said and there was such confidence in his voice that it made Hank feel all warm inside. Charles always believed in his creative abilities. Anything Hank put his mind to, Charles thought he could do, even when Hank actually failed. 

Hank had never thought someone would believe in him that much.

He let Charles look as his notes as he cooked and they spent the meal discussing Charles’s own ideas of how the system could work. By the end of the meal, Hank was rather desperate to get back to his designing and almost wishing they were back home so he could start making miniature replicas in the lab.

“Well, before you disappear again, grab me something interesting from the top shelf?” Charles said. “Nothing I can reach appeals right now. I don’t mind if it’s rubbish, just toss me something entertaining!”

Hank went to collect something obediently. The books on the top shelf appeared to have all been packed in together and he had to tug to try and get anything out. He over judged his own strength and ended up sending everything scattering to the floor.

“Damn.”

He began to pick the books up and carefully put them back. One of them didn’t match the others at all. It was covered with light blue paper, apparently covered by whomever had left it. They hadn’t bothered to write a title or an author on it. In fact, it looked almost homemade. Curious, Hank let it fall open.

He froze.

It was filled with photographs. The photographs were black and white, glossy, beautifully printed and exquisitely detailed. 

And extremely explicit.

“What’s wro – oh ... ”

Charles was looking through his eyes again. Hank slowly turned the page, wondering if it was a fluke, but no. No, the book was filled with photographs of naked men in various poses. Various ... amazing poses. Hank flicked to the front of the book. It still didn’t seem to have anything in the way of a title, it just began with a photograph of a man – this one, wearing a suit. He looked smart, almost like any period photograph ... until you saw the leather strips that tied his wrists together.

The writing began on the next page. Apparently, it was the memoirs of those who visited a “specialist club, catering to the desires of certain men.”

“It’s probably not legitimate,” Hank said aloud, trying not to look at the photo beneath the text. “It’s probably just a fetish fantasy. I don’t think the paper’s right for the era ... ”

“Does it matter?” Charles asked. “I mean ... it is what it is, isn’t it?”

Hank looked at him and saw that Charles’s cheeks had turned rather pink. Hank wondered if he was enjoying the book. The idea made him feel a little ... odd. Perhaps just because the pictures were so _detailed_. He’d seen men naked, of course, but not ... well, sexually. Charles had been his first and only male partner and until him, Hank had never really thought of himself as anything but straight. He’d quite come to terms with that now but somehow, he’d just never got to thinking about anybody else and now, to suddenly be faced with ...

“That looks painful,” he said because the silence felt very thick and the book was open to a page of a naked man whose arms were twisted behind his back, tied with thick tasselled cords.

“I suppose it is,” Charles said. “Pain isn’t always bad, you know.”

Hank felt himself blushing. He coughed slightly and flipped over the page, revealing another man who was not only bound, but blindfolded and gagged. 

_My Thomas is most beautiful when he looks like this, squirming, writhing and uttering desperate pleas for pleasure. He utters such oaths of which I have not heard the like and yet they please me greatly._

“Sounds nice,” Charles said.

“I ... d-does it?”

“Doesn’t it?”

Hank didn’t answer. He felt confused in a way that he hadn’t for a long time. A part of him was firmly telling him that this was strange and worrying and he didn’t like it – but was that the part that had been so worried about becoming Charles’s lover to begin with? Was that the part that had made him so desperate for “normality” that he had injected himself with something untested, turned himself into Beast?

Particularly as another part of him was beginning to feel excited. His skin was prickling and he kept looking at the photograph. The idea of what it would look like if that were Charles ... 

“We could try it.”

Charles’s voice was very quiet. Hank breathed in and choked on air, coughing. Charles took the book from him so he wouldn’t drop it or accidentally damage it and Hank coughed himself steady.

“T- _try_ it?!”

“Well. Why not? People ... people do. Not just like this, just ... with ties and things.”

“Have _you_ ever tried it?”

“Not really,” Charles said. He was looking at the book, turning the pages slowly and examining each photograph. Some of them had little diagrams beneath, apparently showing you the best way to tie your partner up – or in some cases, make what were basically machines that would do all sorts of things. Some of them were rather unlikely, although Hank had a feeling that he could make a few of these ... even improve on their designs ...

“Not really?” he said because Charles had gone quiet and it was better to hear Charles’s voice than think the odd things that he was thinking right now.

“Not really,” Charles repeated which suggested he didn’t want to go any further into that. Hank let the question go. Instead, he wondered what it would be like to be tied up. Surely it would be terribly strange? When you were having sex with someone, you had to touch them, didn’t you? You stroked them, held them. If his hands were tied up, what would he do? Wouldn’t it be strange?

“We could try it.”

Charles said it again, more quietly this time. He leaned against Hank as he said it, his fingers curling over Hank’s wrist lightly. Hank felt a burst of heat go through him.

“I ... what would you use?”

“Just one of my ties. Nothing serious. Easy to escape from if you don’t like it.”

“O-okay.”

The word stammered out of him and he swallowed, a little terrified but more excited. Charles smiled, then tugged him down into a kiss, mouth firm on Hank’s. Hank groaned and kissed back, letting his mind fill with all the exciting things that he was thinking about, knowing Charles would read them. He felt Charles shiver in his arms.

_Maybe not some of those this time. Depending on how this goes. You’ll need your hands for those after all ... but you can certainly carry me to the bedroom!_

Hank obeyed, scooping Charles up in his arms. They done that a lot when they’d lived alone, Charles just asking to be lifted and Hank obeying. It felt rather nice to be doing it again. He carried Charles into the bedroom and carefully placed him on the bed. Charles usually lay back but instead, he stayed sitting, bracing himself on his arms and smiled.

“Now. Fetch me a tie. Lucky I like to dress smartly, isn’t it?”

“I’ll tell the students that,” Hank said and was pleased when Charles laughed. He wondered if Charles was at all nervous. He certainly was, even though he was still excited. They didn’t _do_ different things. Everything had been the same since ... well, since the seventies.

Maybe a bit of change would be good.

He handed Charles a tie, then began to strip. He’d never mastered the art of making taking clothes off sexy so he just did it neatly but Charles watched him keenly, as though it was something exciting to see. 

“Lie on the bed,” he said softly when Hank was done. “Then put your arms up above your head.”

Hank did. He could feel tingles running though his body, nervous ones – but also excited ones. Charles moved carefully put the bed and pulled Hank’s wrists closer together then slipped the tie gently around them in a loop.

_It’ll be easy to escape if you need to break it, particularly as you’re, well, you, but maybe pretend that it isn’t?_

_Okay_ he thought back and then Charles kissed him, fierce and warm. Hank kissed back happily. It was weird not to be able to pull Charles close though. Very weird. This was always the point where he’d wrap his arms around Charles’s shoulders and cuddle him close and he couldn’t ...

Charles kept kissing him, sweet, playful little kisses. He stroked his hands down Hank’s chest, over the lighter fur that always felt tickly when it was touched. Hank wriggled a little and Charles gave him another kiss.

“Stay still darling,” he said and kept touching, stroking his hands through Hank’s fur. He seemed to want to explore every bit of Hank’s body, perfectly normal places like Hank’s arms and shoulders and the bits of his back that he could reach. The touches were extremely gentle and though Charles was obviously not trying to tickle him, Hank found himself wriggling.

“Charles ... ” he rasped.

“Hmm?”

“What’s taking you so long?”

Charles laughed.

“The desire to touch you all over. You can’t stop me and I’m going to enjoy every bit of you while I have the chance.”

He kept up with the steady, smooth touching. Hank wasn’t sure anybody had ever mapped his body so comprehensively before. Charles stroked his thighs, his knees, his ankles. He sometimes leaned down and kissed or rubbed his nose in the fur that grew there. It was strange and wonderful and Hank was torn between wanting to rip the binding from his wrists and touch Charles all over or just lying there and enjoying the absolute attention that was being lavished on him.

“You’re so lovely,” Charles said quietly. “My Hank. I would touch you like this all night.”

“No, thank you!” Hank ground out. He was feeling quite desperate by now. His body was throbbing and he _wanted_ and Charles was being so bloody _slow_.

Charles laughed. He suddenly seemed to decide that Hank had been through enough. He took Hank’s erection into his hands – it was too big in this form for anything else, like everything else, Hank was outsized in that department – and began to stroke, leaning over to blow on the tip playfully. Hank was already almost there and he barely had time to gasp a warning before he was coming harder than he could remember in a long time.

Charles came up to untie his hands almost instantly, which Hank was glad of. His arms were aching but he rolled over and pulled Charles close, nuzzling at him a little, even though all he wanted now was a cuddle and a sleep.

“That’s all right,” Charles whispered, reading his mind. “You can do that. Was it what you hoped?”

Hank only just managed to make a noise of affection and affirmation before he was sound asleep.

*

His arms were not as sore as he’d expected when he woke up, nor was he as embarrassed. It had been ... different. Different and ... and wonderful. He’d _liked_ it in a way that he’d never expected to, never imagined that he would. He wanted it again. He wanted to tie Charles up too. He wanted ... probably all of it.

He got out of bed and went to take a shower – a slightly more complicated business when he was in his Beast-form. He had to make sure that all his fur was clean and as untangled as possible – although usually, Charles helped him with that.

_Charles?_

_Hm? Oh. Yes, if you like_.

Charles’s mental voice was a little distracted but Hank didn’t question it. He finished washing himself instead, then headed out. Charles was sitting in his chair, reading the blue book again. He was so absorbed in it that he didn’t seem to have noticed that Hank had walked into the room. Rather than speak, Hank just walked up behind him and looked at the picture of the man, who had been hogtied with intricately twisted ropes. The writing beneath spoke of Benjamin, a man whose partner felt that he had been “most impolite” and therefore warranted such a binding and a scolding ...

“You couldn’t do that to me,” Charles said quietly. “My legs wouldn’t be able to take it.”

Hank quietly spread a towel on the floor and then sat down on it, handing Charles a second towel and a brush. After a moment, Charles began to dry him with the usual, vigorous strokes.

“I couldn’t do that,” Hank agreed. “I don’t think I’d really want to anyway, really. I don’t find that picture, um, sexy.”

He wondered why words like that always had to be so hard to say. Charles didn’t laugh though. He began to stroke the brush gently over the top of Hank’s neck and down his back. Hank had to try not to wriggle. There was something about the sound that always made him happy. Maybe it was just having Charles’s attention like this.

“I could do other things in the book to you though. If you want,” he said.

“I do,” Charles said quietly, beginning to rub with the towel again. “If you’re comfortable with it.”

“I am. I ... I was thinking about it ... I am. Is ... so you’d like to be tied up too?”

“Yes,” Charles said instantly.

“Like last night?”

“I ... a little like that, yes.”

Hank frowned. Charles was dancing around something, which seemed a little pointless, given that they were talking about tying each other up. It wasn’t usually a good idea to press Charles too much when he started to do this though, he tended to clam up. Hank would either have to ask him later or play it by ear.

He found that there was something rather exciting about the second prospect. He’d always liked experiments and although it felt a little odd to think of this in that way, it was what it was, wasn’t it? A sexual experiment, finding out exactly what Charles wanted from him and giving it.

He would have to examine the book again, of course. The idea made his stomach crunch with pleasure. Perhaps he’d find some other things that he’d like Charles to do to him too ... he wouldn’t mind being tied up again. Maybe with something tighter than a tie ... clearly, that was what Charles wanted ...

“You’re growling,” Charles said and Hank realised that he was. They were faint, contented growls but they were growls all the same.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise,” Charles said. “I quite like it.”

He’d said things like that before but Hank had never really believed it. Now suddenly, he wondered if it was true. If that was something that he really could use to his advantage. 

Once he was entirely dry and groomed, he dressed and then made them a light lunch. The snow had stopped and had piled itself in deep drifts. Hank wondered if it was worth going out and shovelling it or if he should wait until the next day. In the end, responsibility won out and he found the shovel and went to move some of it. For a while this went well, until he found himself picturing Charles in surprisingly detailed sexual positions.

_Charles, are you doing that?_

_Maybe_.

_Charles, I’m working out here!_

_I know. I am a very bad man._

He could almost see Charles smiling. Another picture appeared of Charles lying spread-eagled on a bed, entirely naked with red marks on his back from being spanked ...

Determinedly, he continued to shovel, ignoring the ever-more detailed images playing in his head. Once he had cleared a good sized space on the path, he put the shovel away, thinking very hard about the chemical composition of various things he had created in the lab, blocking Charles from his mind. Then he walked into the cabin and looked down at Charles, who looked up at him with one of his sweetest, most innocent smiles.

“You look like you’ve worked up quite a sweat. And after your shower too ... ”

Hank growled at him, a proper growl. Charles looked like it was worrying him but Hank felt a flick of approval and excitement in his mind.

“You’ve been _teasing_ me,” Hank said, his voice deep and threatening. “I was working and you were _teasing_ me.”

“Not much. Not really,” Charles said.

“I don’t like to be teased,” Hank said. He bent down and scooped Charles up, throwing him over his shoulder. Charles yelped and wriggled but Hank ignored it. He carried Charles into the bedroom and dropped him onto the bed, standing over him, still growling softly at the back of his throat. Charles looked a little frightened but not entirely convincingly – but then, Charles was so rarely obviously frightened by things that it was probably realistic.

“I think I’m going to show you what happens to people who tease me,” Hank said. He reached down and showed Charles the claws that he usually kept sheathed. Charles made a little sighing noise. He smelt deliciously aroused.

“I’m not scared of you,” Charles said. “I don’t think you’d hurt me.”

“Then you’ll soon learn differently,” Hank said. He gave Charles a very light slap – only very light and with the claws drawn back in. He unfastened Charles’s shirt, pulling it off a little roughly and throwing it aside. He was more careful with Charles’s trousers. However much he wanted to play, he didn’t want to risk doing any harm to Charles’s legs. He pulled off Charles’s underwear at the same time and threw them aside too. Then he moved back and began to very deliberately pick through Charles’s suitcase. He knew Charles was watching him but pretended not to care. Instead, he selected a handful of Charles’s ties, then turned back to him.

“Are you going to tie me up?” Charles asked. His tone was slightly mocking, as though he wanted Hank to think that he thought it was ridiculous.

“Yes,” Hank said. “And I’m going to blindfold you.”

Charles gave a very slight gasp. Hank moved behind him, catching hold of his arms and pulling them behind him. Charles struggled, trying to pull away and Hank growled more loudly, warning him into stillness. He wrapped the tie around Charles’s wrists, knotting it neatly.

“Be good,” he growled in Charles’s ear and then looped the next tie over Charles’s eyes, tying it with a slightly tighter knot. He growled again, soft against Charles’s ear and then moved back, inspecting his handiwork. Naked and bound and blindfolded ... it was as beautiful as the pictures had made it look. More beautiful. He could suddenly see why people liked to take photographs ...

Charles made a odd noise. It didn’t sound quite right somehow.

“Charles?”

Charles didn’t answer. Hank sniffed the air and realised that Charles didn’t smell excited any more, he smelt _afraid_.

Hank moved quickly, pulling the blindfold off first and then going for the wrist-binding, speaking quickly as he did.

“Charles, it’s all right. It’s okay, you’re free, see? You’re fine, it’s all fine. What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“I ... no,” Charles said. His voice sounded shaky. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry I didn’t mean to spoil it ... ”

“I don’t care,” Hank said. He sat next to Charles and pulled him close, rubbing his arms. Charles stayed oddly rigid for a moment, then suddenly flopped against Hank’s shoulder. Hank kept rubbing his arms until Charles felt a little bit warmer, then just held him.

“Charles, what happened? I thought you were enjoying it.”

“I was,” Charles said. “I mean ... well, I was until I wasn’t!”

He gave a shaky laugh and Hank knew that Charles was hoping that Hank would let it go. That Charles was planning on shoving it away, insisting that he was okay because he was he was always okay. And sometimes Hank did let it go because that was what _he_ did, he let Charles be all right and in charge because, well, that was how it was.

But maybe that wasn’t how it should stay.

“Charles, what happened? I want you to tell me.”

He said it almost fiercely. Charles looked at him with obvious surprise and Hank stared back, hoping that Charles was reading his mind right now and knew just how much he meant it. He wasn’t going to back down. It might be embarrassing or ridiculous but he was _going_ to hear this and if he could, he’d – 

“The dark,” Charles said quietly.

“I ... what?”

Charles looked away from him. His shoulders were very slightly hunched, as though he were trying to curl in on himself.

“It was the dark,” he said again. “I thought it would be fun but ... when you put the blindfold on and I was tied up, I ... I found myself remembering ... in the pyramid.”

His voice was low. Hank didn’t say anything. He just waited and after barely a pause, Charles began to speak again.

“I was helpless, Hank. I couldn’t do anything. He had blocked my powers, my legs didn’t work and he was going to take my _mind_. I should have been able to fight him and I couldn’t, I couldn’t do anything and he knew it. And he ... he was in my head, he was _in my head_ and I couldn’t get rid of him, I couldn’t do _anything_ and he wanted me to surrender and I ... I ... almost did.”

He stumbled over the last words and Hank knew that they’d reached the core of the matter. Charles had talked a little before about the pain he’d felt, the feeling of being helpless and Hank had been able to understand it. But this was what Charles had always been holding back. This was the crux.

“I almost let him, Hank! I almost ... I almost destroyed the world. Because I couldn’t fight any more and it ... it didn’t feel so bad to give up.”

“Charles, no! It wasn’t like that!”

Hank moved so that he and Charles were looking at each other properly. He cupped Charles’s face in his paws.

“You can’t control everything, Charles. You can’t be that strong. He stole the bodies of hundreds of other people, maybe even thousands. Of course he would have taken yours in the end. It wasn’t because you gave up. It was because it was what he could _do_.”

Charles stared at him for a long moment. He drooped slightly in Hank’s hands and Hank let him go, pulling him close into a cuddle again. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said. “It wasn’t your fault and ... and it was okay that you were scared. I was scared too.”

Charles didn’t say anything. But Hank felt a little nudge in his mind and then felt the still slightly strange sensation of Charles’s mind in his, burrowing in, wanting to feel close there as well as physically. Hank allowed it, keeping Charles in his arms, stroking his back. They sat like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other, linked together entirely. 

Hank almost resented the real world for intruding but it did in the end, of course. He realised that he needed the toilet and also that he was getting hungry. Charles stirred as he did and lifted his head. He smiled and his eyes looked less hollow than they had before.

“My arms are going numb,” he said and he sounded right too. “Could you hand me my clothes?”

Hank did. He went to the bathroom, then fetched Charles’s chair for him. Charles had dressed himself. He reached out and caught Hank’s hand, squeezing it tightly between his own. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

Hank knew.

*

The snow was melting the next day. Hank went and did some more shovelling anyway and then, at Charles’s request, built a snowman. After some though, he gave it a rather wonky snow helmet and named it Meltneto. When he told Charles, he was quite pleased to see that Charles was clearly trying rather hard not to laugh.

They didn’t talk about the Blue Book. They didn’t discuss the day before at all. They talked about other things instead; what the children might be doing to the school in their absence, whether or not they could spare the time to fly out and see Hank’s parents in the summer, if Hank really could invent a floating wheelchair. All things they’d discussed before and yet somehow, Hank felt there was an openness, a freeness that hadn’t been there before. The poison had been bled out of the wound and now, at last, they could actually heal.

Hank lit the wood fire as it got dark and they sat in front of it, watching the flames. Charles leaned against him, stroking his arm and Hank half-dozed for a while until Charles shifted.

“Hank?”

“Yes?”

“You know ... it wasn’t all bad. Yesterday.”

Hank didn’t say anything. He squeezed Charles a little, thinking about it. No, it hadn’t been all bad, not at all. Before Charles had become upset, it had been ... well, brilliant, actually.

“I wouldn’t mind playing again,” Charles said.

No, Hank wouldn’t either. He wouldn’t mind playing all sorts of things with Charles. How ridiculous, to be forty years old and finding new things that you wanted to do ...

 _Not ridiculous_. Charles’s voice was soft in his head. _Everyone finds new things at any time. The mistake is thinking that you can’t start something new just because you are older. The mistake is thinking that you can’t change anything_.

Hank gave him a kiss. Then he growled and scooped Charles up in his arms.

“Mine,” he said and carried Charles into the bedroom to pick up where they had left off.

*

They took the Blue Book with them when they packed to go home.

Hank left behind a science book to replace it, which he thought was fair payment, since it had been much more expensive than the Blue Book would have been. Charles said that they’d probably be better off posting the collection of confiscated paperbacks that he had in his office as people would be more interested in them than in extremely advanced physics.

“Assuming Raven hasn’t used our time away to raid them anyway,” Hank said wickedly and grinned when Charles winced.

“No, no, no. My sister is not interested in sex.”

“Hmmm. Not sure that’s completely true, Charles.”

“Until she shows up with the man or woman she wants to marry, allow me my delusions, Hank,” Charles said but he was smiling as he spoke. Hank smiled back, then went to do one last check to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything.

He hadn’t expected to like this place so much. He hadn’t expected to learn so much here or to have such vivid memories.

At least Raven wasn’t a telepath.

 _She’ll know anyway_ Charles said cheerfully. _Not the details maybe but I’m pretty sure she was hoping for something like this all along. Meddling wench_.

 _She learned from the best_ Hank thought back, absently checking that nothing looked visibly out of place in the bedroom. _I suspect that she didn’t expect it to take quite this form though. Are you really going to make a rig to tie me up in?_

Hank didn’t answer that with words, just an image of what he thought the rig would look like and how lovely Charles would look in it, all bound up and beautiful. He was fairly certain that he felt Charles shiver in response.

_I love you, Hank McCoy._

_I love you too_ he thought back and then walked back to Charles’s side, closing the door behind him.


End file.
